


Straw Houses

by Lady_Kit



Series: 12 Days of Shipmas [11]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Unhealthy Mindset, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13273671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/pseuds/Lady_Kit
Summary: Edge wouldn’t look at him. “We can’t keep doing this, Razz.”“Why not?” he asked, not caring how desperate he sounded, “It’s been working just fine until now! Why are you—?” He couldn’t just suddenly change the rules! It wasn’t fair! It didn’t make sense! "You can't just leave!"___________Things are different, on the surface. Razz sometimes wishes they weren't.Sequel to"Straw Blessings"





	Straw Houses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rehlia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehlia/gifts).



> No real trigger warning? But this is pretty sad. So brace yourself for sad.
> 
> This will make more sense if you read ["Straw Blessings"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13165584) first, but I don't think you have to.

Edge considered the wedding invitation contemplatively, phalanges tracing the outer edge of the card. It was made of heavy, high-quality cardstock, though Edge probably would have chosen something a little subtler than day-glow orange and electric purple. The obnoxious color scheme, while eye-catching, wasn’t what held his attention, however. His gaze was drawn to the contents.

Handwritten in oranate calligraphy across the top of the card was his name—well, his nickname. Beneath that, of course, were all the expected details: location, time, chicken or fish?, etc. Most interesting, however, was another handwritten note at the bottom of the card. Beside the unchecked box for “plus one”, Papyrus had written in neat, legible script, “choose wisely”.

He’d already called Red and Sans to confirm that they had each received an invitation. However, theirs were addressed, “To Red and Blue” and “To Sans and Stretch”. They did not have a ‘plus one’ option. They had been invited in pairs. For the past few days, Edge had monitored their mail, looking to see if Razz was, perhaps, going to receive a separate invitation. After all, unlike the others, Edge and Razz were not necessarily a couple. (Then again, they weren’t necessarily single either, but that was beside the point.) But he didn’t.

So now Edge was trying to decide what to do. Even Papyrus’ neatly scrawled note might not have dissuaded him from bringing Razz—the asshat was Slim’s brother; he should be at the wedding, even if he was going to be a dick about it—but Edge had been there the night Slim and Papyrus had announced their upcoming nuptials. He’d been just as angry as Papyrus and almost as humiliated as Slim. As it stood, Edge was not entirely comfortable bringing Razz to the wedding. Not if he was going to behave like that.

But the unchecked box troubled him. He set the card on the table, staring at it. He tried to envision going without Razz, and…the idea bothered him. With a start, he realized that he would miss the little terror. Slowly, he sat down at the table, wondering when _that_ had happened. And, stars above, _why_? Razz wasn’t exactly easy to get along with. They fought almost as often as they fucked—and sometimes, it felt more like they were fighting than fucking.

He stared hard at the card, then looked past it into the middle distance and tapped it against the tabletop. Thinking.

He had a decision to make.

 

As soon as Razz came home, his mouth pulled back in a sneer. He could smell a mix of sugar, chocolate, and vanilla—so sweet it nearly caused his tongue to conjure, even as he bristled. He slammed the door, storming into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” he demanded. His sometimes-lover was standing at the counter, studying a trio of cakes. Edge eyed him, apparently unaffected by the anger bleeding off of him.

“Come here,” he said, “Taste this.” He held out a small slice of chocolate cake. Razz stared at it, frowning. When he didn’t take it, Edge looked at him, raising a brow-bone mockingly. “What? Are you afraid it’s poisoned?”

“Why are you making cake?” Razz asked, snatching the plate from his hand. Edge raised a brow-bone. Cooking, baking in particular, wasn’t an especially uncommon occurrence in their household. However, even considering that Edge tended to go overboard when he was upset or anxious, three cakes in a single evening was a bit much.

Still considering the cakes, Edge said, “I’m going to be presenting these to Slim and Papyrus tomorrow. They need to choose a flavor, filling, and frosting before I can start designing their wedding cake.”

Razz froze, a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth. Secretly, he quite enjoyed Edge’s baking, even if he complained about it loudly and often. However. “I’m not having any part of that farce.” With that, he held out the plate and upended it. Edge turned and looked between him and the fallen slice of cake.

“Did you really just do that?” he asked, sockets narrowed. “You’re really going to throw a temper tantrum like a spoilt child? Over _wedding cake_?”

“It’s not the cake! It’s the principle,” he said with a huff, arms crossed.

“What principle?” Edge asked, throwing his arms out to the side.

“He _hit_ me,” Razz snarled, “Mr. ‘Oh no, let’s not do a violence!’ _hit me_. Because I wouldn’t bless their union. I’m not even going to acknowledge their existence until I get an apology!”

Edge stared at him. “Please. Do not tell me that your twisted up mind has somehow come to that conclusion. Do not tell me that you actually believe the drivel spilling out of your mouth.” When Razz just glared back, chin up and arms crossed, Edge’s sockets narrowed and he hissed, “I cannot believe your head is lodged so far up your own pelvic inlet.”

Snarling, Razz made a grab for him, snatching the front of his apron and hauling him down to Razz’s level. “Say that. Again.”

This wasn’t an unusual game for them. The insults would turn physical shortly—walking a thin line between actual abuse and rough sex. It was a welcome pastime: wrestling with the taller monster, subduing him, ~~being subdued by him~~. It helped him—helped _them_ —let off some steam. Provided an acceptable outlet for their aggressions in this strange new world. A world that rejected violence. That didn’t respect LOVE, only love. ~~A world Razz hardly knew how to navigate in~~.

So Razz was prepared for Edge to haul him to his feet. He was ready for Edge to slam him against the counter. He was _not_ prepared for Edge to squeeze his wrist, grinding the carpals together until Razz was forced to release him. Nor was he ready for Edge to pull away, straightening his apron. “Thank you,” Edge said stiffly. “You’ve made things much easier for me.” He eyed the cakes, covering them so they’d keep overnight.

Razz just watched him, not comprehending. “I—“ He bristled, standing taller and straighter. Covering confusion ~~and fear~~ with rage. “What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me, _numbskull_? I ordered you to _say that again._ ”

Edge turned and Razz smirked, ready. _Yes_. Things were going to be as they were meant to be. Edge just hadn’t been ready to get physical yet. He needed a little more verbal sparring to get in the mood. Edge would come back with one of his bitingly sarcastic comments and then—“I heard you,” he said. Cool and calm. Controlled.

Razz blinked. This isn’t how they played the game. This isn’t how things were supposed to go. _This wasn’t how things were supposed to be_. He swallowed, trying to hold down the rising panic. “So?” he asked, hoping that Edge couldn’t hear how breathless he sounded, “What are you going to do about it?”

To his shock, Edge actually shut his sockets and sighed. His shoulders sagged, as if he could no longer bear to carry the world on them. “Something I’m beginning to think I should have done long ago. It might have saved both of us some pain.” Opening his sockets, he looked away and said, “I’m going to start looking for an apartment tomorrow.”

Razz’s head spun, thrown off by the subject change. “What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, looking around as if the reason might become apparent to him like that. “Why do we need to move?”

“Razz,” Edge said. He sounded tired. “Not ‘we’. Just me.”

“I—“ It felt like the world was tilting on its axis. ~~After Slim had abandoned him~~ After the dog had run off to be with Papyrus, he and Edge had moved in together as a matter of convenience. They both found themselves partner and brother-less. It had seemed natural. Since then, it had been them against a world Razz found increasingly difficult to understand. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to. Nothing made sense. Even ~~his own brother~~ the dog didn’t make sense anymore. Edge was like a lifeline. He still made sense. He still operated on Fell-verse rules. Razz still _understood_ him.

He held out a hand, catching the counter and using it as support. “I don’t understand,” Razz said, voice thick.

Edge wouldn’t look at him. “We can’t keep doing this, Razz.”

“Why not?” he asked, not caring how desperate he sounded, “It’s been working just fine until now! Why are you—?” He couldn’t just suddenly change the rules! It wasn’t fair! It didn’t make sense! “You can’t just leave!”

“I love you,” Edge said. Razz froze, staring at him. Neither of them had ever admitted to such a thing. Never even acknowledge the possibility. They weren’t _dating_. They were just fucking. That’s all.

So Razz sidestepped the issue. “But…why? Why would you leave?” He sounded so broken, but he couldn’t summon the indignation to care.

“Because I can’t watch you keep doing this. I thought things would get better, now that we’re on the surface. I thought it would easier for you to actually admit that you give a fuck about your brother. Or about…me. But you keep pushing him away. Pushing and pushing until even fucking _Papyrus_ had enough of your shit.” He shook his head, snickering even though he obviously didn’t think it was funny. “As for us…I can’t do this anymore, Razz. I’m ready to move on. To leave our shitty ‘verses behind us. I want—“ He reached out, his hand curling into a fist. As if he were clutching at something intangible. “I want what the surface has on offer. Peace. Stability. Security. _Affection_. But…you don’t.” His hand dropped, and he exhaled slowly. “You don’t want to be better. You act as if we _can’t_ be better. And I…can’t stay with you. Not if you aren’t even going to try.”

“No,” Razz said, shaking his head. “ _No_. You can’t. I won’t allow—“ The words caught in his throat, choking him. Edge caught them, though. He turned, brow-bone cocked.

“You won’t allow it? That only proves my point. You can’t _force_ someone to stay, Razz.” His gaze dropped, his fist resting at the apex of his sternum. “And you can’t force them to change.” He sighed and looked away, saying, “Actually, I think I’m going to pack a bag. The runt will probably let me sleep on their couch. I think it would be wisest, don’t you?”

Razz stared at him. Disbelieving. Then he hissed. “Fine. _Go_. The only thing I’ll miss is your pretty little _cunt_.”

Rather than reacting as Razz might have preferred—with fire and fury and _the way he was supposed to_ —Edge just rolled his eyelights. “Very mature. My cunt and I are so very offended.” Then he left the kitchen. Razz trailed after him, standing in the doorway as he packed an overnight bag. He couldn’t believe it.

“You’re really leaving.” His tone was dull. His eyelights were dim.

“Yes, Razz. I’m really leaving,” Edge affirmed, neatly folding a pair of pants.

“What can I do?” he said, stepping into the room. “To keep you.”

“I’m not a _pet_!” Edge snapped, finally losing his temper a bit.

“Please,” Razz said, taking another step. “I need. I need you. You said you love me! And I think…I think I love you too!”

Edge just shook his head. “You know all those stupid love songs? The ones we make fun of?” Razz nodded. “They’re wrong. You need more than love to make a relationship work, Razz—and we won’t even admit that this _is_ a relationship!” He rubbed that spot between his brow-bones, but he didn’t stop packing. Not until the overnight bag was full. He zipped it shut and, looking at Razz, said, “Prove to me that you want to change. Prove to me that you’re willing to _try_. Go to therapy. Make peace with Papyrus. Stop referring to your brother as ‘the dog _’_ , for fuck’s sake _._ You can be so much better than this, Razz. But you have to want it.”

“I can do those things with you here!” he snapped.

Edge shook his head, looking away. “I don’t think you can, frankly. I remind you too much of what we were. Maybe.” He scrapped his claws over the back of his skull. “Maybe I have some things to work on too. For now, at least, I think we need to work things out separately.” He paused at the door and held up a garish card, day-glow orange and electric purple. Razz didn’t have to ask what it was. “You’re coming to the wedding. That’s five months away, Razz. Get your shit together…and then. Maybe we can talk.”

Then he was gone, and Razz felt a growing hollow in his soul. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear things apart—Edge had left most of his stuff behind, and it made a tempting target. That would show him. Edge would regret leaving if Razz ruined his things. That would prove—

Razz’s sockets shuttered closed, and he sank to the floor. The LV encasing his soul made crying impossible, but his soul ached and his breathing hitched as he sobbed silently. The months stretched ahead of him, and he silently vowed that he would indeed prove to Edge that he could change. That he could be a better person. Out of _spite_. Not because he wanted his ~~sometimes~~ -former-lover to look at him with approval rather than shame. Not because he missed ~~his brother~~ the dog. Only out of spite and spite alone. Nothing else. No other reason. Just pure, unadulterated spite. That was _all_.

The next day, when Edge returned for the cakes and a few key items, everything would be intact. And Razz would be so damn polite it _hurt_.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I might have to write a third part to this.


End file.
